


A Little Something To Take The Edge Off

by ddddaikon



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Casual Sex, Cunnilingus, F/F, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddddaikon/pseuds/ddddaikon
Summary: Entrapta approaches Catra with a casual offer of a sexual nature. Catra naturally chases her out screaming.
Relationships: Catra/Entrapta (She-Ra)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 74





	A Little Something To Take The Edge Off

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my friends Ady (itsady) and Flora (strongcat) for both helping me edit and inspiring me to actually finish something. They both wrote such beautiful multi-chapter fic that involved emotionally complex character exploration...and I wrote this lmao...
> 
> Here’s the short discord conversation that served as original inspiration: [link](https://imgur.com/a/ltYukhJ)

She’s all nerves, standing outside of Entrapta’s quarters, hand poised to knock. What is she doing here, Catra wonders, fully knowing the answer but not willing to face it.

—

It was an offer, vague but still startlingly obvious. It had been a long day and Catra didn’t quite let her guard down, but she still stretched and allowed herself to groan at the pull of her aching muscles. 

The only other person in the lab was Entrapta, still dutifully working into the night. Catra catches her staring.

“What?” She spits, immediately defensive. Entrapta gives an awkward squawk of laughter and apologizes. Catra might have thought she had seen her flush red, but it was probably just her imagination. Or if it wasn’t, there could be a dozen other reasons she was flushed, considering her work.

“Can I ask a weird question?” 

Catra glowers. “What kind of question?” 

“A personal one,” she explains. 

“No. Technically I’m your commanding officer.” 

“Oh,” Entrapta says, and Catra can’t tell what emotion her voice carries. 

Catra had working on a daily log prior to the strange interruption, but as she attempts to return her focus to the task, her vision seems to blur with exhaustion and her mind wanders. Entrapta is still fully engrossed, not the least bit thrown off by Catra’s rejection. Enviably single-minded. Entrapta can go on for hours about anything technical or science-y, so since when does she ask personal questions? It nags at the back of her mind and she’s about to give up on the log book and leave the remainder for tomorrow when Entrapta suddenly drops into view, hanging upside down from the pipes. 

Instinctively, Catra swipes out with her claws, and Entrapta leans out of the way like it’s second nature. 

“Ah, sorry,” she says, with another awkward, nervous laugh. 

“What do you want?” Catra asks, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Are you and Scorpia just friends?” 

“What?” 

“How would you define your relationship with Scorpia?” Catra’s face twists with distaste. She wouldn’t have guessed that Entrapta would have cared about something like that. 

“Go ask her out, or whatever,” Catra answers. “I don’t have time for stuff like that.” Her eyes move down to where her hand hovers over the plans she had been attempting to work on. 

Entrapta doesn’t leave, her shadow still looming. “That actually isn’t what I meant.” 

Catra shuts her eyes and tries to relax the twitching muscles in her face. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that I’m not interested.” 

“Not romantically of course, no.” Catra slams her pen down. Entrapta lithely lowers herself down and pushes her goggles up. They meet eyes. Before Catra can formulate a response about how little patience she has left, Entrapta continues. “You seem stressed, and I thought I may be able to help. I just wanted to be clear on whether or not you were already in a committed relationship with Scorpia—” 

“I’m not—” 

“Because I didn’t want to make such an offer if you weren’t available for something more… casual.” Entrapta _is_ blushing, and until then, Catra hadn’t thought embarrassment was in her lexicon of emotions. 

Realization hits Catra like a brick. Regrettably, she can feel her face heat up too. With a sudden rush of panicked adrenaline, she tosses the paperwork on her desk and screams, “get out!” 

Entrapta slithers away, her hair shooting up and dragging her into the shadowy ceiling ducts. Catra pulls at her face, not wanting to process what had just happened. 

“You just have to let me know, if you change your mind.” Entrapta says, the reflection of her goggles barely visible from the darkness above. Catra nearly jumps out of her skin. She’s about to yell, not knowing what to say to make her go away, when she hears the sounds of her slithering through the vents like some kind of vermin. 

Catra drops to the floor, taking a moment to breathe. Did Entrapta just offer to have sex with her? Not wanting to think about it, wanting to shut her brain off from work, people, everything, she abandons the mess of papers scattered on the floor and makes her way to her quarters. 

As usual, she sleeps uneasily.

The next morning, the strangeness of the night prior seems to have passed. Her dreams are fraught, and when she wakes, she doesn’t even remember what had transpired before. 

She returns to work, and although still tired, still aching, she gets the job done. Hell, she feels like she’s almost able to feel accomplished as reports come in showing progres: territory gained, territory steadily held, statistics steadily rising in favor of her leadership.

Any confidence she may have been building is shaken when she catches sight of Entrapta. She might have convinced herself it was just another facet of her regular nightmares, but seeing her just a few feet away, seeing her lithe movements and stupid magic hair, she knows she couldn’t have dreamed the exchange. The rest of her day becomes a struggle.

Entrapta doesn’t acknowledge it, of course. She’s still got a preternatural ability to focus, and she is still diligently at work on the robots that Catra had asked for days prior. As Catra completes her rounds, she rattles off a report of her progress excitedly, and Catra finds herself feeling like she’s on a knife’s edge, unsure of why. Scorpia notices, and tries to bring it up as they move past Entrapta and onto the next task. 

Catra brushes it off, like usual, but it’s harder this time. She feels humiliated in a new way. It doesn’t help when Scorpia mirrors Entrapta’s wording, “if you change your mind, remember that I’m here for you.” Catra thinks that Entrapta and Scorpia are in on this together, and it’s some kind of bad joke. But she can’t imagine Scorpia being that crass, knowing her, and knowing how unfortunately soft her personality is.

Catra ultimately sends Scorpia off on some mindless task, just to see if she can regain her productivity without any distractions. Unfortunately, her own mind can supplement in that regard.

Catra wonders if she misunderstood, and Entrapta just committed some kind of bizarre faux pas. It wouldn’t have been the first time that basic rules of social interaction had flown over her head. 

Catra would have also never imagined Entrapta and sex in the same sphere of existence. Now it creeps into her imagination whether she wants it to or not.

She thinks about the fact that Entrapta often has her cleavage showing, arms drawn close to her body and squeezing her breasts together as she works. It’s always been there, the same as her wide hips and the hint of shoulder blades that peak through masses of hair in the gap in the back of her clothing. Catra hunches over her workspace, trying to keep her hot face obscured in shadow.

This is stupid, she thinks. The cure to thinking of Entrapta in…a sexual capacity is to realize that she actually isn’t sexy. She’s a huge nerd with an annoying voice and anytime she’s around Catra’s ears twitch in fear of too loud, too shrill sounds. 

To actually accept her stupid offer, would just be humiliating, and Catra would walk away with a million more regrets to add to her list. She tries to imagine it, imagine how miserable it would be, and then…

Catra can’t stop herself from imagining flashes of Entrapta’s skin showing through the open panels in her clothing. She imagines her clothing being pulled away showing more and more and all there is is bare flesh and masses of hair like tentacles.

Catra pulls at her hair in frustration, feeling like she’s been poisoned with some kind of mind control serum. What is wrong with her?

Unable to concentrate, she storms away, abandoning the plans she’s working on and making her way to the simulation chambers. There, she manages to fill her mind with survival instincts and frustration-fueled aggression that spills out as she fights and claws her way to near-exhaustion. When she retires for the night, she thinks that maybe she will finally have a dreamless, restful night of sleep.

Instead, she finds that the adrenaline lingers in her blood and she stares up at the shadowy ceiling, regularly hearing the arrhythmic twitching of her ear against the pillow. 

She clutches at the sheets, wondering how she got to this point. Why is her imagination so much more vivid in the dark? She worries that if she thinks about it hard enough, the glint of red goggles will suddenly appear from within the vents above. 

Trembling, Catra sits up and dislodges herself from her covers. She pulls on a pair of leggings and steps out into the empty, quiet hallways of the late night Fright Zone. The thrum of her pulse feels like it begins to get louder and louder, filling the silence. 

When she reaches the entryway to Entrapta’s chambers, she reassures herself that she can always turn around and go back to her room and just pretend this whole ordeal was an uncomfortable dream. She knocks.

And there she was, waiting at Entrapta’s door, wondering how it ever came to this point.

Entrapta cracks open the door, staring out with ever-widening eyes.  
“Catra?” She asks, making Catra question if it actually was all a dream, before recognition dawns on her face. 

Sparing her the embarrassment, Entrapta asks, in a facsimile of casualness, “Would you like to come in?” Entrapta holds the door, allowing Catra to slink through. As she enters, she feels shame bearing down like a weight on her shoulders, and she hopes that there’s at least some truth to her fantasies to make up for it.

“This is about my offer, isn’t it?” Entrapta asks, whispering excitedly as she shuts and locks the door with her security pin pad.

“Don’t…this isn’t…” Catra can’t think of a threat that won’t make her sound as pathetic as she feels.

“It will just be between us, and if you don’t like it, we can always stop and pretend it never happened.”

This seemed uncharacteristic for Entrapta. Catra stands awkwardly and watches as she starts clearing what she assumes is her bed, a strangely ornate red couch. Catra absently wonders where it even came from, but the flurry of doubts and worries quickly coming to the forefront of her mind are more pressing.

“This isn’t some kind of messed up science experiment to you, is it?”

Entrapta’s head shoots up, and a stuffed animal tumbles from where it was being secured under her chin. “No!” She turns to deposit an armful of junk into the corner. “I am actually very attracted to you,” she says, still facing away from Catra.

Catra feels her face get hot, embarrassingly. 

“And although I don’t think we’re romantically compatible, I thought I would try to see if we could maybe at least have this experience together. One second.” Entrapta dashes through a small doorway and a few moments later Catra can hear water running.

“You have a private bathroom?” Catra asks, incredulous.

“What?” Entrapta pokes her head out, toothbrush in the mouth.

“Never mind,” Catra replies. “So this isn’t like, a weird crush or anything?” she takes a few cautious steps closer to her apparent private bathroom.

When Entrapta steps out, she’s shed her overalls, and Catra’s fur stands on end from sudden embarrassment at the sight of her bare thighs. The heat seems to expand out from her chest, a new feeling. A tingle of excitement.

“I’m not very good with people,” she says, seeming more sheepish about admitting that than the fact that she’s pants-less. “But—I still enjoy sex, sometimes.”

“Do you do this a lot?” Catra asks.

“Not really, no.” Entrapta steps closer and Catra fights the urge to back away. Entrapta gazes down at Catra’s hands, taking them in her own. Catra startles at the surprisingly soft touch and realizes that Entrapta isn’t wearing any gloves. Catra finds herself staring, thinking that her ungloved hands are somehow a more intimate sight than seeing her in her underwear. She’s never seen her not wearing thick, bulky work gloves before. These are the hands that will touch her, this is the touch that she will feel. A steady throb begins between her legs and she swallows heavily.

“Thank you, for accepting my offer,” Entrapta says softly. “Can I kiss you?”

Catra doesn’t answer, ready to lose herself in whatever this encounter will be. She’s ready for her electric nerves to be burned off and replaced with the thrumming heat in her blood. She leans in too quickly and kisses Entrapta, and their teeth click together awkwardly.

Their faces just an inch apart, Entrapta giggles. She tugs at Catra’s hands, still clasped within hers and leads her over to the couch. “Come on!”

As soon as Catra sits, Entrapta descends on her. She kneels, nudging one leg between Catra’s as she leans in to capture her mouth once more. Catra feels engulfed by both the heat of Entrapta’s mouth and the weight of her frame leaning against her. Catra’s body loosens and starts to lean back against the couch naturally. Entrapta is fully straddling her, short, thick thighs on either side of her waist before she realizes what’s happening. She pulls back, her eyelids heavy and her breathing already quickening. 

She sits up suddenly, and Catra can only stare in awe at such a strange and unfamiliar sight. Reaching up, Entrapta digs into the base of her pigtails until an avalanche of hair cascades down. This also, is completely new.

“You’re not going to do anything…weird with your hair, are you?”

“No,” she replies, running her fingers through the masses of pink-purple strands while the tresses shift to accommodate her. “My hair can move pretty uniquely, but I can’t feel anything because hair doesn’t have nerves. And feeling is the fun part, isn’t it?”

Catra has no reply, staring in open- mouthed wonder until Entrapta leans down to kiss her again. When her hands hover, still unsure of herself, Entrapta reminds her that she can touch her if she wants, whispering with hot breath that Catra can taste. 

“Be careful with those claws, please,” she adds, as Catra gingerly places a hand on each of her thighs. Catra squeezes, the points of the tips pressing into the soft skin but carefully enough to not break the surface. Entrapta sucks in a breath.

Catra worries that she’s upset her, halfway into a panic when Entrapta suddenly sits up and dismounts from Catra’s waist.

Her frantic pulse calms slightly as she realizes that Entrapta is removing the remainder of her clothing. She pushes her tube top down over her hips. Catra imagines that it must be easier for her that way, with all of that hair. As she drags the fabric down, her underwear gets caught and rolls down over one hip, exposing the skin there as well as the dark curls of her pubic hair. Catra feels another surge of desire at the sight, and grows a little bolder. 

She lifts her own top over her head, a less time consuming task for her, and when her line of vision is clear again, she’s treated to the sight of Entrapta using tendrils of her hair to undo the hooks of her bra while she finishes stepping out of her underwear. Catra wastes no time in shucking the rest of her clothes off, wanting to get back to more feeling, as Entrapta had described—the fun part.

Catra gets caught in her tight-fitting leggings, and she struggles to pull the bunched fabric from her feet when Entrapta, fully disrobed, helps relieve her of her clothing. Catra yelps with excitement as Entrapta hooks her fingers into the waistband of her underwear. 

“Can I take these off you?” Entrapta asks, and Catra demands she follow through. Catra shivers, her thighs trembling as Entrapta slides the underwear down and drops them carelessly on the floor.

Entrapta runs a hand through Catra’s fur, thicker between her legs and running up the line of her stomach. Catra arches into the touch. 

When Entrapta leans down to kiss her again, Catra reaches for her breasts, and at the touch of the soft flesh, she feels a lightness in her chest. All she wants is more, more sensation, more to touch and more to feel. More to drown out every thought in her head. Entrapta was right—she was stressed, and this was a fantastic solution to that problem.

Entrapta makes little noises as Catra plays with her breasts and pinches at her nipples, squeezing carefully with the edges of her claws.

“Oh, be careful!” She cries, wary of how the sharp edges slide along her skin. The whine in her voice stokes the ever-growing heat between Catra’s thighs.

With the soft coat of fur covering her body, Catra can detect the moisture beginning to form between Entrapta’s legs as she sits on her waist.

Catra smirks to herself, sliding her hands down Entrapta’s soft belly and around to grip her ass. Entrapta responds by burying her face into Catra’s neck. She works her way downwards, using her mouth and seemingly her entire face to feel the curves and planes of Catra’s body. Entrapta rubs her cheek against the soft fur, sighing contentedly before turning her face to follow the same path with her open, hot, wet mouth. Catra’s hands slide upwards along the line of Entrapta’s spine as she works her way down, down. 

When Entrapta reaches her apex, Catra is trembling. “Can I use my mouth here?” Entrapta asks, and her fingers brush lightly against Catra’s outer labia. Catra’s thighs twitch.

“Please,” is all she can say in response.

“Awesome,” Entrapta says quietly, mostly to herself. Catra smiles despite herself, biting her lip in anticipation.

Catra sucks in a gasp at the first sensation of Entrapta’s breath between her legs. Despite her promise that her hair wasn’t going to be involved, thick locks shift and provide surprisingly comfortable supports under Catra’s knees.

Catra is seeing a side of Entrapta she would have never imagined, radiating with desire that makes Catra’s toes curl. It feels very unlike her to be interested in pleasure, and to act on pleasure alone. But Entrapta is still Entrapta, and she seems to treat eating Catra out like an experiment, almost too cautiously. 

Her lips and tongue move tentatively, and she keeps her eyes staring up, watching for Catra’s every reaction. When Catra’s voice breaks, Entrapta maddeningly pulls back and asks if she had hurt her. Catra can’t even use her calves to force her head back down, legs still held aloft by Entrapta’s hair. Instead she has to tell her how good it feels, until the words come tumbling from her lips automatically. 

Entrapta, being the effective scientist she is, absorbs what she learns and uses the vocal feedback to her advantage, and Catra feels like she will simply dissolve, because there’s no way anything on Etheria can feel this good.

Catra keens helplessly as she comes. The waves of pleasure reach a crescendo again, and again, and one final time as she finally goes limp with exhaustion.

Entrapta pulls back and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smiling like she didn’t just send Catra to another dimension. Catra simply closes her eyes and breathes, reveling in post-orgasm peace of mind.

“Was that good?” Entrapta asks quietly. 

Catra hums in response, and then says, “Give me a minute.” When her limbs finally stop twitching and the cloud of contentment feels mostly settled in her head, she sits up. She leans in close to Entrapta who shivers and gasps as Catra breathes against her neck. 

“I’m going to return the favor, don’t worry,”

“Ah, good,” Entrapta says, leaning her head to give Catra more room. “Not that I doubted you,” she adds, and then yelps as Catra bites down. Not hard enough to break the skin, but a mark will eventually bloom, red-purple under the skin. 

“Please don’t do that where anyone can see. Or at all.” Entrapta whimpers quietly. Catra’s stomach sinks a little. The fine fur on the back of her neck raises defensively, and she can feel herself start to spiral. 

But before she can say anything, before she can ruin this for herself, Entrapta speaks up. “Don’t worry about it! Just keep going, please.” Entrapta squirms, and her hand begins to wander down. 

Catra swallows hard and tries to pick up where the energy was left, before she surreptitiously bit Entrapta. She seizes her hand, carefully this time, and gives Entrapta a devilish smile. “That’s my job right now, remember?” Entrapta, with a mixed expression, both desperation and worry written on her face, asks, “But…your claws?”

Catra holds up her free hand, demonstrating the black tips retreating into the nailbed. “They retract.”

“Why didn’t you do that before?”

“Because I thought it would be fun. But I get it, you’re not a big fan of pain. We can do this your way, Princess.” Despite the bravado of her words, Catra is still nervous. The spell from earlier seems broken, and she feels like she’s returned to reality after her mistake. But then Entrapta nods and tosses her head back and parts her legs wide and Catra swallows, feeling heat begin to temper again in her gut. Reality takes a backseat to the scene before her.

“Please,” Entrapta says as Catra leans in once more. She clings against Catra, her shorter nails ironically digging into Catra’s shoulders as her fingertips brush up against her labia. Catra’s fingers dip between the soft flesh to find hot, slick moisture inside. Entrapta breathes hard directly against Catra’s ear, which in turn flicks against the blowing air. 

At any other time Catra might have found the mouth breathing insufferable, but she drinks in the noise now, trying to repeat the patterns that make Entrapta gasp the loudest as her two fingers slide back and forth. 

Not satisfied to wait for Catra to follow her cues, Entrapta begins to give her instructions. Another thing that Catra would normally scorn, but she can’t allow herself to be outdone. She revels in Entrapta’s voice raising in pitch, in her stuttering words, in her praise as she gets closer and closer to the edge. When she finally tips over, her fingers clamp in Catra’s hair almost painfully as she shudders and jerks. Catra struggles to keep her fingers sliding in and out to help her ride out the waves as perfectly as possible.

“That’s good,” Entrapta says, her voice thick, and Catra finally stops her ministrations with one last slow, slick slide that makes Entrapta shudder violently.

“Oh god,” she gasps. “That was so good!” Catra beams, her tail moving side to side with pleased little flicks.

Her fingers are starting to twitch with the onset of cramps. Self-satisfied with her performance she still asks, “Did you want to go again?”

“No, I need a break.”

“You only came once?”

“It was a really big one,” Entrapta says, and her hair helps her motion with a wide gesture. “And sometimes it’s just also uncomfortable to go more than once,” she then admits.

“Weird,” Catra remarks. But she can’t complain. She shakes her fingers and her wrist out and thinks that this will keep her riding high on her mood—at least until the next day. Just a few more moments of rest, and then she’ll get dressed and take her leave.

Entrapta takes a deep breath and sits up. Catra watches her with a puzzled expression as she kneels down and begins to rummage through a small chest that had been tucked under the couch.

“What are-“ Before Catra can finish getting the words out, Entrapta holds up a harness, and Catra turns deep red with recognition.

“Do you like penetrative stuff?” Entrapta asks, brightly.

“Uh, I…” Catra digs her claws into the couch and bites her lip. Entrapta notices.

“If not, it’s totally fine! We can call it a night, if you want. Or if you want to keep going I can just use my fingers?” Even after all of that, Catra is still a little shocked at how insatiable Entrapta seems to be.

“I don’t want to call it a night just yet,” Catra manages.

“Okay, what do you want to do then?” She asks the question so casually, with all of her usual energy. Catra squeezes her legs together, imaging Entrapta pressed up against her, her weight rolling against her body.

“Let’s do the uh, the strap-on.” 

“Okay,” she says, and begins to step into the harness. Catra watches, her breath quickening at the sight alone. She wonders if Entrapta has actually set out to kill her from sheer overstimulation. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go, she decides.

When she’s finished adjusting the harness to fit snugly against her pelvis, Entrapta stands over Catra, and grips the (translucent and hot pink, Catra notes) dildo in her hand. “This isn’t going to be too big for you, is it?”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Catra wonders where she even obtained such a thing in the Fright Zone. At the forefront of her mind, there is nothing but hazy thoughts of desire and want, seemingly endless want.

Catra shakes her head and reaches for Entrapta, who takes one hand in each of hers and moves to kneel between Catra’s legs. Entrapta’s hair reaches behind her and seizes a pillow without ever letting go of their entwined hands. 

“Lift your hips, this will make it more comfortable.” She instructs, and Catra arches her back, bringing her hips closer to Entrapta’s and feeling the tip of the dildo brush against her. She makes a small desperate noise as Entrapta tucks the pillow under her behind.

“Good?”

“Mm,” Catra replies. Her hands tremble within Entrapta’s grasp.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Catra nods vigorously. “I want it.”

Entrapta separates one set of entwined hands and pushes two fingers into Catra with little hesitance. She finds no resistance. She adds another finger and Catra’s hips lift, trying to take in more. 

Entrapta takes her time, driving Catra half-mad. Catra’s ears twitch at the increasingly wet sounds, until finally Entrapta withdraws and asks her in a low voice if she’s ready.

“Yes,” Catra says, gazing up at Entrapta, half bathed by shadow, a halo of light around her from the fluorescent overhead lights of the Fright Zone.

Entrapta bites her lip and lines up the strap-on at Catra’s entrance. Catra’s toes curl as she pushes in slowly. She’s gasping like a fish out of water by the time Entrapta bottoms out. Entrapta allows her to breathe, waiting for her to calm, always cautious. When the rise and fall of her chest slows, Entrapta traces her hands up Catra’s trembling thighs and slowly begins to draw back, but not fully. She pushes back in, achingly slow.

Catra’s legs curl against Entrapta’s waist, her whole body trying to contract at the pleasure. “More?” Entrapta asks, as she gingerly draws back further and begins to thrust forward with more force.

“More,” Catra agrees with a small whimper. Entrapta sets her pace, not too fast, not too rough. Catra almost wishes she would be more careless, but she can’t deny the blissful feeling at her core, surging through her body to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her breathing gets faster as Entrapta increases the pace, and Entrapta begins to pant with the effort as well. 

The pleasure builds, seeming like it’s never going to reach its peak and Catra can’t help but howl as the waves hit her like electric shocks. When she comes, for the fifth time tonight, her legs shake, her back arches and she bucks her hips, nearly sending Entrapta off balance.

“That’s enough,” Catra says, her voice breaking on the words. She closes her eyes, her chest heaving, and flinches momentarily as Entrapta caresses her sweaty face without warning. She leans into it though, and cringes into her open hand as Entrapta pulls out. Catra’s cunt twitches with little zaps of aftershocks.

“Sorry,” Entrapta says. Her voice also sounds hoarse with exhaustion.

“It’s fine,” Catra replies.

For a moment they both lie, listening to the ambient shifting sounds of the Fright Zone and their own breathing as it slowly begins to steady.

“Thanks,” Catra says, quietly, almost begrudgingly.

“Yeah.” All of Entrapta’s usual energy seems to finally be drained away.

As the aftershocks finally fade and her senses return to her in full capacity, Catra discovers that all her limbs are loose with relaxation. She realizes that it’s been a long time since she hasn’t felt strain in her limbs, since she hasn’t felt a weight on her shoulders. Now, all that’s left is to hope that her brain is flooded with enough feel-good sex chemicals that the nightmares can take a break just for once.

She sits up. Entrapta follows suit.

“It’s okay, I figured you wouldn’t stay or anything.” She says, with a tired smile.

Catra starts looking for her clothes, scattered in a pile on the floor. She can feel her fur stand on end at the chill of the air against her body.

“That was nice,” Entrapta says. When Catra turns at the sound of her voice, she finds her reclining, eyes closed and looking peaceful. Her sprawled and naked body is still an incredible sight, and Catra marvels at it one last time.

Entrapta’s eyes flutter open as Catra approaches, once again clothed. Without warning, she flicks a nipple, causing Entrapta to squawk with surprise.

“It was nice. Thanks.”

Catra takes her leave quickly, not allowing herself to look back, to drag it on any longer and allow the chance for regrets to surface.

For just one night, she sleeps without dreams.


End file.
